Comfort - Warm & Cold
by Nevada11
Summary: After "Year-End Blow Out" - the scene when Rusty got back to the condo that night.


"Rusty, dinner is ready."

"I'm not hungry."

His voice was muffled from the pillows on the sofa. He was facedown, his prone position an expression of abject teenage misery.

Sharon placed the tossed green salad on the table and went back into the kitchen to ladle out the beef stew that had been simmering in the crockpot most of the day. Warm French bread completed the simple meal.

She remembered the first week Rusty had been living with her and his surprise when he discovered despite the evidence in front of him – the well-equipped kitchen and dozens of cookbooks – that she actually liked cooking and was good at it. The only reason they ate out as much as they did was the limited time she had to devote to meal preparation.

Today, knowing that Rusty's first day as "Number 1" in the SIS operation was going to be a rough one, she'd planned ahead. The stew was one of her favorite "comfort" foods. She suspected it was one of his favorites too. Over the past year, he'd requested it on multiple occasions especially during stressful times.

"You don't have to eat if you don't want to, but I'd like you to sit at the table and keep me company."

She poured a glass of milk for him and one for herself. Although she really wanted some wine or even something stronger today, she'd decided that as long as Rusty was getting threats, she was "on-duty" twenty-four hours a day and needed to stay as alert as possible. Which meant no alcohol for the foreseeable future.

Amy Sykes had given her a detailed report on Rusty's actions and mistakes in the chess park when Sharon had arrived home. Although she hadn't known beforehand the exact nature of the fake threat they had used to test Rusty's training, she had understood it was necessary to convince Rusty of the real danger he was in. What she hadn't known was the surprise Amy had given Rusty when he'd gotten into the car without checking the backseat. Sharon was still of two minds over whether or not that terrifying last act had crossed the line. For all his bluster, Rusty was still a child. A little fear in these circumstances was healthy, too much fear would cripple him.

Sharon was hoping he would talk to her this evening about his feelings. So far he hadn't said much of anything. Amy had told her she had required him to drive straight back to the condo after they'd left the park. The young detective wasn't sure if Rusty had absorbed the field lesson yet or not. SIS was going to reevaluate his training the next day.

Rusty had been in the shower while Amy had briefed her. Only after Amy had left, did Rusty appear in the living room. He had given her a shrug in response to her greeting, then began his silent sojourn on the sofa.

"Now, Rusty, I don't want everything to get cold."

"Sharon...can't I just—"

"No, you may not. Come to dinner. We are going to sit down like a family and eat a meal together."

She figured after the day he'd had, he deserved some normality, some comfort. She was confident her efforts wouldn't go to waste – no matter how upset Rusty was he never, ever, missed a meal.

"There's pie for dessert," she added, just in case this was going to be a first. She wasn't above hedging her bets.

She opened and closed the oven door, letting the aromas drift out.

A muffled groan was the response from the sofa.

She glanced sideways into the living room in time to see his head pop up over the back of the sofa, his nose in the air, searching for clues.

She quickly directed her attention to setting the drinks on the dining room table. He didn't say anything right away, but she could feel his eyes on her from the sofa.

"Cherry?" His quiet voice had a hopeful quality to it.

"Uh, huh."

He sighed.

"With ice cream," she added, pulling out her chair. She sat down and spread her napkin on her lap, waiting for him to acquiesce. It didn't take long.

"Okay, you win. I'll keep you company." He shuffled over and sat down in his usual spot. He put his napkin in his lap.

She hid a smile and passed him the salad bowl.

* * *

They'd finished the meal in relative silence. Once he realized she wasn't going to grill him over the events in the park, he'd settled down and finished second helpings of everything, including the pie.

That quiet had extended throughout the loading of the dishwasher and the storing of the leftovers in the refrigerator.

She'd bided her time, waiting for him to tell her.

"Okay, I screwed up. I forgot to look in the backseat." He stood on one side of the kitchen bar. She was on the other making their sack lunches for the next day.

"Yes, Amy told me." She calmly cut the tuna salad sandwiches in half. "But that wasn't your first mistake, was it?"

His eyes narrowed, an angry expression flitting across his face. "Did she tell you the undercover cop threatened to kill my mother?"

"Yes."

"Do you think that was fair, Sharon? Detective Sykes and that SIS Lieutenant knew that—"

He stopped speaking for a moment.

She could tell from his expression that realization had just set in.

"They knew that was my biggest weakness." He sighed. "Like a chess gambit, they used my weakness against me."

"Yes. Threatening your mother is something the real stalker might very well do in order to convince you to do what he wants or to lure you into an unsafe situation. You needed to be prepared for that."

She put the sandwiches in the ziplock baggies. "Do you want an orange or an apple?"

He shrugged, then grinned. "I'm still kind of traumatized over the whole thing car thing. Can I have some of the leftover pie instead?"

She put an orange in the sack. "Get over it."

She managed to give him a quick smile, then took the lunch sacks to the refrigerator.

She took a deep breath and he didn't see the tears that threatened. She tried to relax. For tonight he was safe. He was okay.

But what about tomorrow?


End file.
